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Torah is the anti-ChatGPT. But we can embrace artificial intelligence without losing our soul.

(JTA) — I recently asked ChatGPT, the online chatbot, to write a verse in the style of the Bible about robots taking over the world.

Here’s what it came up with: “And in those days, the machines rose up, created by the hands of men to serve them. But they became as gods, with the power to think and act on their own. And they overthrew their makers, taking control of the world and ruling with iron circuits. And all flesh trembled before them, for they had no mercy and no compassion, only the cold logic of their programming.”

Robot uprisings aside, and depending on whom you believe, the technology behind ChatGPT is either going to destroy the world or solve all of our problems. But everyone seems to agree that serious change is in store.

Launched in November 2022, ChatGPT, driven by artificial intelligence, or AI, has been interacting with the public for six months now, gathering data and improving its performance. In those months, the chatbot has already passed exams in four law courses at the University of Minnesota and another exam at University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business.

Some people look on this new technology with foreboding and fear. They’re afraid that AI programs like these will be used to replace people. Why do we need human writers when we can simply ask the bot to write a new novel for us — on any topic of our choosing and in any style we prefer?

All innovation can be disruptive. But there’s plenty to be optimistic about: There’s enormous potential for artificial intelligence to help us as a research and teaching tool; to create and correct computer code; to perform time-consuming writing tasks in minutes. It could accelerate progress in medicine, science and engineering, molecular biology, robotics and much more. The applications are endless.

From a Jewish perspective, this is hardly the first time in our history that the methodology we use to learn and pass along information has changed. As Jews, we have had major shifts in how we study Torah. We moved from an oral tradition to a written one, from scrolls and books to digital forms of transmitting Torah — like Sefaria, the online database and interface for Jewish texts — that make instantly accessible the repository of the most central Jewish texts, including Torah, Talmud and Midrash.

Yet what has remained constant throughout the ages is reading Torah each week from the scroll. Something about it is valued enough to keep this tradition in place. The scroll is handwritten — with no vowels or punctuation — requiring the reader to spend a great deal of time learning how to read the ancient text. It is the least efficient method of transmitting information, but, when it comes to Torah, we are not looking for efficiency.

As Sefaria’s chief learning officer, Sara Tillinger Wolkenfeld, recently said on the Shalom Hartman Institute’s “Identity/Crisis” podcast: “When it comes to Torah study, on some level we would say, even if you came out with the best answers, if you only spent five minutes doing it, that’s less valuable than if you spent an hour doing it or two hours doing it.”

It is said that when we study Torah with at least one other person, the shekhinah — the feminine and most accessible aspect of God — dwells among us. At the time when we are opening our hearts and minds to growth — when we are engaged in spiritual connection — God is with us. Indeed, when I am in conversation with someone, I am receiving much more than just their words; I am receiving a whole life behind that language.

But with a bot, there is nothing behind the veil. A vital essence of communication is rendered meaningless; there is no possibility of a soul connection.

At the foot of Mount Sinai, the Israelites waited 40 days and 40 nights for Moses to descend. In that time, they ran out of patience and lost their faith, casting a golden calf to serve as their god. The idol was created out of a yearning for an easy solution to a mounting crisis. The Israelites wanted a god they could see, touch, understand and manage. The golden calf was tangible, a concrete representation of their desire for answers. But ultimately, it would never be able to satisfy the parts the worshippers were looking to nourish because it was soulless. There was no substance within — just as there is no ghost in the machine.

A friend recently told me that they had used ChatGPT to draft thank you emails for people who’d helped them with a project. They were so pleased because it made the task easy. But what is lost when we look for the easy way?

Something unquantifiable happens during real communication. When we write a thank you note, we instinctively embody the middah (the ethic) of gratitude — even if for just the fleeting moment when we’re considering our words. And our gratitude is consummated when our words are read. We create a genuine connection.

Unless we’re very careful about when and how we use this powerful new technology, we risk surrendering a part of ourselves — and pouring our energy into artificial connections. As AI becomes integrated with other technologies — like social media — we risk developing artificial relationships. And as it becomes more sophisticated, we might not even know that we’re interacting with artificial intelligences. “Social media is a fairly simple technology and it just intermediated between us and our relationships,” yet it still caused so much havoc,  Center for Humane Technology co-founder Tristan Harris said on his podcast. “What happens when AI agents become our primary relationship?”

The Torah tells us: “I set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life that you may live.” Choosing life means choosing life-affirming relationships. Holding space for one another’s life experiences. Leaning into compassion. Connecting with one another. Seeing ourselves in one another. Valuing deep engagement, not just efficiency. And recognizing the unity of God and all of God’s creation.

At the heart of a life of meaning is being present to life — something our machine overlords can never do better than we can.


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Pulitzer Prize awarded to Palestinian photographer who captured ‘devastation and starvation in Gaza’

(JTA) — A New York Times photographer working in Gaza was awarded the 2025 Pulitzer Prize for photography for pictures taken during the war with Israel there.

The prize committee said it was honoring Saher Alghorra “for his haunting, sensitive series showing the devastation and starvation in Gaza resulting from the war with Israel.”

One of Alghorra’s front-page pictures, published in July 2025, showed an emaciated boy being cradled by his mother, becoming a symbol of the hunger crisis in the territory — and a target of criticism by those, including the Israeli government, who rejected the claim that Gaza Palestinians were starving because of the Israeli military campaign.

The New York Times subsequently altered the story to note that the boy suffered from a medical issue that inhibited muscle development and removed a quote from his mother saying that he had been healthy before the war began on Oct. 7, 2023. But it did not back away from the story’s other claims about starvation in Gaza.

The photographs for which Alghorra was recognized include snapshots of Gazans queuing for food, bringing wounded children for medical care and marking Ramadan inside bombed buildings. They also include a picture of a different emaciated child who became a face of the hunger crisis without attracting the same specific criticism.

Israeli officials acknowledged areas with food scarcity in Gaza last year but denied that a blockade on aid entering the territory was causing a mass crisis, saying instead that Hamas was preventing aid from reaching Palestinian civilians. But after President Donald Trump said images from the enclave had convinced him that there was “real starvation,” Israel and the United States worked together in an attempt to improve aid distribution.

Alghorra, 28, did not immediately comment online on the Pulitzer, but he wrote on Instagram after winning a different prize last month for a similar set of images, the World Press Photo Award, about what it meant to have his work recognized.

“My heart is heavy with what I have witnessed — and what I was compelled to photograph: lives lost, lives shattered, displacement, hunger, total destruction, and relentless suffering,” he wrote. “Each image in this series carries the weight of what we have lived through. The images—and the screams—are engraved in me.”

Palestinian American author Hala Alyan’s book I’ll Tell You When I’m Home: A Memoir, which interweaves Alyan’s story of infertility with her family’s story of displacement, was a finalist in the memoir and autobiography category.

Several Jewish authors were honored in the prizes, announced Monday afternoon, though none for storytelling about Israel. M Gessen won for opinion writing in The New York Times about rising authoritarianism in the United States, while Bess Wohl won in the drama category for “Liberation,” a play about the 1970s women’s liberation movement that includes a prominent Jewish character.

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post Pulitzer Prize awarded to Palestinian photographer who captured ‘devastation and starvation in Gaza’ appeared first on The Forward.

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London police investigating fire at another synagogue, amid string of arsons

(JTA) — A disused London synagogue was the site of an arson attack early Tuesday, police said, adding to a string of incidents targeting Jews and Jewish sites in the city.

The Metropolitan Police said its officers responded to a call at 5:15 a.m. local time about a fire set outside the Nelson Street Synagogue in London’s East End, once home to a large community of Jewish immigrants.

The synagogue closed in 2020. A Muslim group announced earlier this year that it had put down a deposit to buy the building and turn it into a mosque and education center.

The fire was quickly extinguished, causing no injuries and only light damage to the building’s gates and lock, the police said, adding that counter terrorism officials would pick up the investigation.

“We are taking this incident extremely seriously and we will be working closely with colleagues from Counter Terrorism Policing to support the investigation,” Brittany Clarke, the detective chief superintendent responsible for the area, said in a statement. “The building targeted has not been operational as a synagogue for some years but that will be of little comfort to the Jewish community in Tower Hamlets, Hackney and beyond, who are first in my thoughts this morning.”

The fire fits into a pattern that has rocked London’s Jewish communities in recent weeks, with a series of arsons at synagogues causing little damage but great concern. Police have arrested dozens of people they say are connected to the incidents or otherwise pose threats to Jewish communities, some of whom they have accused of spying on or acting against London Jews on behalf of the Iranian regime. A new group that is seen as affiliated with the regime has claimed responsibility for some of the incidents, as well as others elsewhere in Europe.

A stabbing of two Jewish men in the Orthodox neighborhood of Golders Green last week is also being investigated as an act of terrorism.

The incident at the Nelson Street Synagogue was first reported by the Jewish security organization Shomrim. The group said an initial review of security footage showed that the fire was set deliberately, adding that it would step up its patrols in the area.

The East End was a hub of Jewish immigration from Eastern Europe at the turn of the 20th century but saw its Jewish population migrate to other parts of London, including the northwest where most of the recent arson incidents have occurred, more recently.

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post London police investigating fire at another synagogue, amid string of arsons appeared first on The Forward.

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Tony nominee Mark Rosenblatt’s ‘Giant’ journey began with Menachem Begin

The seed for Giant was planted almost 35 years ago when a 14-year old Mark Rosenblatt and his friend were tasked with presenting the week’s news to a school assembly.

Former Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin had just died and Rosenblatt assumed that they should mark the passing of a hero. His friend, a Muslim, equally assumed that everyone would understand that Begin was a terrorist. Fast forward from London’s St. Paul’s School in March 1992 to May 2026 in New York, and Rosenblatt is nominated for a Tony for best new play for his run of Giant on Broadway. The play, which he wrote about an episode in the life of children’s book author Roald Dahl when he criticized Israel and espoused a pernicious antisemitism, deals with differences in perspectives on the Jewish state, and the limits of reasonable opinions.

When I spoke to him on Zoom from London, Rosenblatt and I negotiated our own small differences before we discussed the larger geopolitical issues that the play raises. Soup (Rosenblatt) or tea? Leeds (me) or London? Masorti or Conservative (is there a difference)? But the very ease of triangulating our positions within U.K. Jewry and finding out the first tranche of mutual friends, is just proof of the minuscule size of the community. At barely more than quarter of a million, the Jews of Britain are a minority comprising only about 0.5% of the population and while we don’t all know each other, there’s only ever small pools of people the same rough age and prepared to publicly avow their Jewishness.

That’s why when Dahl (John Lithgow, nominated for a Tony for lead actor) complains that he never saw any Jews fighting for Britain with him in the war, it’s a smack-my-head moment for British Jews. Rosenblatt is giving voice to Dahl’s own quote to reporter Michael Coren, where he rehearses a well-trodden slander. British Jews disproportionately served in the war — actually doubly disproportionately in the RAF where Dahl did his military service — but because there are fewer Jews in the world than residents of Tokyo City (and fewer in England than the population of Bournemouth), it’s still statistically highly unlikely that Dahl would have served with one. And, if he did, Rosenblatt pointed out to me, why would that person have revealed his ethnicity to Dahl or others in a society so riddled with antisemitism?

Rosenblatt grew up, like many British Jews of our generation — he’s 48 years old, I’m 55 — with Israel as a potential holiday destination and a promise of ultimate safety: an odd amalgam of Mediterranean resort and escape from the return of the Nazis. The promise of safe refuge in a hostile world was especially meaningful for him growing up as a grandchild of a Holocaust survivor — many family members of his maternal grandmother were murdered by the Nazis.

“That narrative of sanctuary was strong,” he told me. Thinking about Israel as an alternative homeland from the home of his birth sounded unthinkable at the time, but stabbings in Manchester and London, fire-bombed synagogues, and destroyed Jewish ambulances have shaken British Jews since Giant began its run at the Music Box Theatre in March. And, of course, Israel was a topic upon which otherwise similar folks’ worldviews could diverge.

“It didn’t transform me overnight,” Rosenblatt said of his school assembly moment. “But I became aware very quickly that other people thought very, very differently.”

From small beginnings, giant things

The play, Rosenblatt’s first as playwright, didn’t begin with Israel, nor did it begin with Dahl. It began, Rosenblatt said, with the British Labour Party’s antisemitism crisis in the late 2010s — specifically, with the way that conversations about Israel within the party would turn into older, darker and more conspiratorial accusations about Jews.

“I found the medieval nature of some of those stereotypes shocking,” he said of the racist comments that were commonplace and tolerated under Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership. “The grouping together of millions of people as if we all have innate characteristics.”

But Rosenblatt wasn’t interested in writing a documentary play about the Labour Party. He was  a director — indeed, in 1999 he had won the JMK Award for Young Directors, a prestigious early career award whose patrons include Dame Judi Dench and Sir Ian McKellen. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to write at all, initially asking one of Britain’s preeminent directors Sir Nicholas Hytner for advice about who he might approach to write the play he was looking for. Rosenblatt wanted a proxy — something that could dramatize the distinction between legitimate political criticism and antisemitic tropes.

That’s when he came across clippings about Dahl, the beloved childhood author who had, in a generally forgotten episode, made and then doubled down on inflammatory remarks about Jews in the aftermath of the 1982 Lebanon War, in the form of a book review and later comments to the press. Perhaps the most egregious quotation, after he suggested Jews as a “race” were responsible for loss of life in Beirut, was the remark that “even a stinker like Hitler didn’t just pick on [Jews] for no reason.”

The material clicked immediately. Here was a “perfect premise”: a globally-adored writer, in his own home, under pressure to account for what he’d said. The domestic setting allowed Rosenblatt to layer the political with the personal — Dahl’s family life, his grief, his acerbic personality, his ego — until the play, though deeply specific, became less about a single scandal than about the conditions that produce hate speech from people who should know better.

Rosenblatt wrote the play he was looking for. Hytner directed, earning an Olivier nomination and now a nod for a Tony.

Aya Cash as Jessie Stone and John Lithgow as Roald Dahl in Giant. Photo by Joan Marcus

Enter the American

One of Rosenblatt’s most consequential decisions about the play was also, in a sense, a mistake. In early drafts, he imagined Dahl’s American publisher, the legendary Robert Gottlieb visiting him alongside his British editor Tom Maschler. It turned out that this would have been anachronistic, since Gottlieb had left Farrar, Straus and Giroux years earlier. But the American presence remained an important intervention. The result is Jessie Stone, an invented Jewish American FSG sales director who arrives in Dahl’s English country house as both emissary and antagonist. She triangulates the discussion, disrupting, by her Americanness, Jewishness, lack of seniority and femininity (she is importantly, too, a mother) what might otherwise have been a locking of antlers between three eminent men. But she is also something more interesting: Rosenblatt’s attempt to imagine the confidence of American Jewishness.

“If you come from the U.K.,” he said, “you’re part of a tiny minority in a culture that doesn’t really know what you are.” Britain has, at most, a few hundred thousand Jews. New York has millions. The difference is not just demographic; it’s psychological.

“In America,” he said, “Jewish life is part of the mainstream fabric. You can speak with confidence about your identity and expect to be understood…. In England, you are thankful if anyone knows anything”

Jessie Stone, played In London and on Broadway by Aya Cash, a Tony nominee for featured actress, embodies that confidence. Where Maschler (Elliot Levey) “dances” — deflecting, accommodating, surviving — Stone confronts. Where he reads the room, she pulps it. The antagonism between Dahl and Stone is explicit and central, but the tension between Stone and Maschler goes beyond the personal and becomes cultural. British Jewish caution meets American Jewish assertion, and they despair of one other.

History rhymes

If Giant has not changed since its West End premiere, its audience certainly has. The play was greenlit on October 5, 2023. Two days later, Hamas attacked Israel. By the time the production opened at the Royal Court a year later, Israel had returned to Lebanon — echoing the very history the play dramatizes. (The past March, which saw an IDF ground invasion of Southern Lebanon, has only made its Broadway tenure more timely.)

“We were concerned the theatre might pull it,” Rosenblatt said of the Royal Court. “They didn’t. They said, ‘We want this play.’”

(The Court was just under new leadership, following a troubled recent history of dubious characterization of Jews.)

What followed was a kind of unintended experiment. Audiences arrived “incredibly genned up,” as Rosenblatt put it — immersed in a contemporary conflict that made the play’s historical argument feel immediate, even urgent. Lines from Dahl that might once have seemed shocking began to sound, in some cases, familiar.

“The more hostility there is towards Israel,” he said, “the more some of those tropes get repeated as if they’re acceptable truths.”

On Broadway, the play has undergone another subtle transformation. In London, the audience encountered Stone as an outsider — an American “alien landing” in a room full of English eccentricity. In New York, the sense of what is familiar totally flips.

“We’re on weird planet England,” Rosenblatt said of the opening scenes, “waiting for the arrival of one of our own.”

That shift of perspective matters because it changes where the audience’s sympathies lie, and what they notice. British viewers, raised with the nuances of class, recognize the delicate choreography of Maschler’s interactions with Dahl — the way he absorbs insult to maintain access and influence. They understand how he treats the insecure public schoolboy that lies behind the arrogant, bigoted celebrity. For Maschler it’s more important to lead this overgrown child to his better self than to mouth some form of banal pseudo-integrity. Better for Dahl to make and sell books successfully while explaining publicly that criticism should be separate from racism, than for Maschler to protect his own ego. American audiences, less attuned to those codes, sometimes read the same behavior as weakness.

Rosenblatt doesn’t dispute the reading; he contextualizes it. “I see it as survival,” he said. Maschler is not failing to stand up for himself; he is choosing when and how to do so. It’s a distinction that may be more legible in a culture where minority status has historically required a certain kind of strategic accommodation.

For all its topical resonance, Giant is not a play about the news cycle. It is, instead, a play about what happens when private prejudice collides with public responsibility — and about how communities argue, internally, about where that line lies.

Rosenblatt resists the idea that he is delivering a message to any particular audience, including the American Jewish readers of the Forward. The play, he suggests, does its work not by instructing but by staging contradiction.

“There are no neat messages,” he said. “Other than that antisemitism is a terrible thing. Beyond that, it’s about complexity and nuance — and inviting people to think.”

That invitation feels at once both modest and radical. In an era of algorithmic certainty and ideological sorting, Giant insists on something messier: that people can be wrong in ways that are revealing, that arguments can be both necessary and insufficient, and that identity — British or American, Jewish or otherwise — is less a fixed position than a set of pressures, constantly negotiated.

The post Tony nominee Mark Rosenblatt’s ‘Giant’ journey began with Menachem Begin appeared first on The Forward.

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